


The Autumn People

by ObscureSubmarine



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ghosts, Autumn, Chuck Hansen Lives, Fluff and Angst, Hansen Family Feels, Light Angst, M/M, Stacker Pentecost Lives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-09
Updated: 2018-03-09
Packaged: 2019-03-29 02:07:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13917102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ObscureSubmarine/pseuds/ObscureSubmarine
Summary: Herc finds himself in a world that isn't his own, talking to people who had been dead for years. Was he losing his mind, or was he dead too?





	The Autumn People

**Author's Note:**

> I LIIIIIIIIIVE! I was finally inspired to get off my lazy butt and write something even though I have a bajillion ideas bouncing around in my head. Oh well, enjoy an autumn fic in March!

Hercules Hansen awoke to a world that was not his own. It was much to beautiful to be his reality.

The sun shone overhead like a great halo, spreading its warmth to the ground below while the cloudless sky drifted by in shades of blue that seemed impossible to comprehend. A cold wind caressed the world with its icy touch, balancing out the daystar's heat to create the perfect day. A path of cobbled stone ran underneath Herc's feet to a destination he could not see, shrouded by rows of guardian trees that enveloped the path in comforting shade. The trees glowed in full autumn glory, though Herc had been sure that it had been winter when he went to bed the night before. A graceful doe danced through the fallen leaves across the path, accompanied by the skittering of a fox somewhere behind her. 

Herc was overwhelmed. It had been years since he had last seen an autumn like this one, pure and untouched by the poison of the Kaiju.

" _I know it can be overwhelming at first, but you'll get used to it"_ a voice crooned. Herc whirled around, trying to pinpoint the voice, and instead of a path that had no end in sight he was greeted by a majestic Victorian mansion, all magnificent stonework and high peaked roofs. A water fountain trickled slowly into a pool as a man rounded the fountain to face Herc. He was..... _familiar._

The man had hair the colour of a field of wheat bathed in August sunlight that rippled in the slight breeze like a pond's glassy surface. His eyes were the colour of the sky above, bright and filled with life. He wore a suit that seemed to be the peculiar yellow-gold of twilight instead of the midday sun of the man's hair. His mouth from which his silken voice flowed was drawn up into an amused smile at Herc's surprise, and it was that smile that gave Herc a name.

"Yancy Becket...." he breathed, unsure of his own sanity. How was he seeing a dead man alive as a summer day, all cheer and sunshine? " _Oh good!"_ Yancy laughed.  _"I was beginning to think you had forgotten me."_

"How....what?!......how are you alive?!" Herc managed to spit out despite the cotton in his mind. If Yancy was here, was Chuck?"  _"I'm afraid your son isn't here, Herc"_ Yancy said, reading Herc's mind.  _"And for your information I'm not alive. I'm merely a spirit with ties to a world that still wants me."_

" _That's what we all want, Herc!"_ another voice rang out. Herc turned to his right to find a woman as pale as the tip of a vixen's tail stepping out from behind a massive old oak tree, smiling the same smile as Yancy. Her short hair was a fiery red, much more red than Herc's natural hair could ever be, and her lips were the same colour. Her dress was the resplendent colour of crisp autumn apples and it flowed like a river of silk down her body. Her mischievous eyes were the colour of cornstalks as a sharp laugh escaped her lips.

 _"Never thought I'd see the great Hercules Hansen dumbfounded by the sight of me in a dress!"_ she cackled. Then she winked at him, saying " _The dress really wasn't my choice and I miss my combat boots, but it kind of goes with our theme here so I wore it."_

Memories flooded back to Herc as he remembered going to the official PPDC Holiday Ball with Stacker and Tamsin. She had said the exact same thing about her combat boots before running off to the bar to grab drinks, allowing Stacker to sneak a little kiss on Herc's cheek.

"Tamsin" he whispered. He couldn't process anything. He was talking to two people who had been dead for years in a world he didn't belong to. Was he dead as well?

 _"Unfortunately, yes."_ Yancy's voice broke Herc out of his thoughts, confirming the man's fears.  _"Your grief tore you apart, and your body couldn't handle it anymore. Your body gave up on you, Herc."_ Tamsin snorted.  _"That's sad. Stacks and Chuck are still looking for you down on Terra Firma."_

"WHAT?!" Herc cried. On Earth?! That means........

 _"Yes. Pentecost and Chuck are still alive, stranded on a tiny island off the coast of China"_ Yancy said calmly. " _They'll be saved in due time. No need to worry."_

Herc let out a breath he had not known he'd been holding. Then ice began to crawl through his veins. He had Drifted with both Stacker and Chuck, and the Ghost Drift had been strong. They would have felt him die. Herc should have known that they were still alive, but his own pathetic grief clouded his mind of all proper judgement.

 _"That's why you're here, with us"_ Tamsin spoke, gesturing to herself and Yancy.  _"That's why you're here, in the October Country. The land in limbo where trees never die but are constantly on the cusp of death, as are the souls inhabiting it."_

 _"You're one of us now"_ Yancy echoed.  _"You are now one of the Autumn People, guides for lost souls trying to find their way until they find their own."_

Yancy gestured to Herc, and Herc looked down at himself. Gone were his faded Henley and buckled boots, replaced with a suit the colour of a maple tree, bright orange that seemed to glow with its own supernatural light. Leaves, frozen forever in their dance were etched into the suit with light brown thread that had flecks of gold weaved into it like stars captured from the night sky.

Yancy gestured again at the fountain he stood in front of, moving out of the way in one graceful motion so Herc could see himself in the clear surface of the water. So he did, and a reflection that was not his own looked back at him. 

His hair was a deep autumn orange intertwined with the ribbons of brown-gold that made up the dance of leaves etched into his new suit, and his eyes glowed like two orbs of blue flame, intense but somehow inviting.

 _"You're an Autumn Man now, Herc"_ Tamsin said as she walked to his side.  _"You're a soul with a purpose that still walks the mortal Earth, and you'll be put to rest once that purpose is fulfilled."_

 _"We're all waiting for our purpose"_ Yancy exclaimed as he placed a comforting hand on Herc's shoulder.  _"Now, we get to wait with you."_

                                                                               ---------------------------------------------

Worlds away, a beam of light fell on a body long gone cold, lying still in a bunk in a room just as cold. A shadow crossed that beam of light, but quickly fell to its knees when its owner saw the dead man. Drawn to the great heaving sobs of the first shadow, another joined it and fell as well, its own cries joining the cacophony of grief-filled sound. In all of their grief, the shadows did not notice the solitary orange maple leaf perched atop the dead man's stomach, glowing with the warmth of the October Country.

FIN

 

 

 

EPILOGUE

On a tiny island off the coast of China, a crude stone knife fell into the sand with a muffled thump. The hand that had been holding the knife had spasmed as a cold tentacle of shock slithered its way into the appendage. A man with ebony skin had frozen up as this bolt of frost overtook him as something so important to him drew its last breath. He did not cry out like the young man with fire in his heart or pound the sand in undisguised rage, but he retreated into himself, searching his soul in vain for one tiny little spark. That spark was not there, replaced with only the bitter cold of an October wind. Tears began their slow journey down slopes of obsidian, but one was stolen away by a wayward leaf as it danced through the wind.

Though numb, the man's arm snapped into the air as fast as a striking cobra, snatching the leaf out of thin air. The man stared at the brilliant orange leaf in his hand, and the voice of the spark he had lost whispered in his mind that they would meet again one day, that he would always be alive within the autumn winds. Warmth spread through the man as the young man with fire in his heart screamed to the heavens, pleading with the wind to bring back what he had lost.

 

**Author's Note:**

> So yeah, this fic was born from shower thoughts and reading way too many Ray Bradbury books. Also, I couldn't help but sneak a little Team Hot Dads into this!


End file.
